Page 39 of The Phantom Duke
It was a wonderful, warm sense of relaxation and well-being that seeped through her like honey. The calmness was so startlingly different from the heat between them that it left her feeling unsteady.
“Oh my!” she gasped.
“I have read extensively on the theories of medicine practiced in other countries. Mainly to confound my distinctly Western friend, Simon. In India, this is practiced to bring relief from a variety of ills,” he said, “and as a prelude.”
Maria closed her eyes, biting her lip. “A prelude to what?”
Damien laughed softly, and her eyes opened. Maria found her breath coming in quick gasps, heart aflutter, and stomach clenched. He was relaxing her body with his ministrations, expelling the pain. He was also inflaming her senses with behavior that felt wicked and wanton. This was not what she had expected for her marital duties.
Scarcely believing what she did, she lay back on the bed. Damien rose above her, knelt on the bed and leaned over her, pushing hair from her brow.
“Will you take off the mask first?” Maria asked, reaching for it.
He raised himself beyond her reach.
“Why?”
“Because I would like to see my husband as he truly is. Not how the world sees him,” she said.
Damien stood, frowning. Maria propped herself on her elbows, feeling the sudden frigidity flowing from him in waves.
“I do not remove the mask. Not for any living person.”
“But I am not just anyone. I am your wife.”
“In name only.”
Damien walked away, one hand half-raised to the mask before falling away.
“I cannot give myself to a man I do not know. I have glimpses of your life only. Shafts of light briefly shining into the shadow,” she said. “I know you had parents, I know this house holds bad memories…”
Damien rounded on her, glaring. “What makes you say that?”
“Look at it!” Maria said. “Why else would you treat it so? You hate it. I can understand that.”
“You know nothing of me.”
“No, because you will not tell me. But I know myself.”
Maria felt the heat of desire cooling rapidly. She sat up, snatching the counterpane from the bed to drape about herself.
Damien ran his hands through his hair, taking in a deep breath.
“Understanding my past was never part of our arrangement,” he said, finally. “It is not a matter for discussion.”
“But my virginity is. You were happy to take me as an anonymous stranger, but not if I knew some basic facts about you. Such as what you look like,” Maria replied hotly.
“I had no such intention. I would not. I will not. Besides, you brought me to this room tonight!” Damien said.
“How? By failing to understand that my shadow could be seen? You did not have to look!”
“How could I not look, Maria!” Damien barked. “Do you think I’m made of stone?”
Maria found herself holding back a smile. The angry outburst was a compliment, though she was not sure he realized it.
“I had thought so,” she said.
“Do not mock,” Damien grated.
